BTVS and Angel belong to the Great, Munificent Joss Whedon! I do not them or Stargate, Dukes of Hazzard, or Highlander. Nor do I own M.A.S.H or Charmed. I'm not doing this for money, fame, or fortune (more's the pity) but I am doing this for the recognition of my peers, peons, and loyal subjects.
Please do the 4 R's: Read, Rate, Review, Recommend.
The wind gusted, the fresh scent of Pine needles carried along through the alley. The people moving about its asphalt, pock-marked surface were quietly cleaning up the remains of the small war they had just waged against a demon army. Pieces of Armor and broken weapons were carefully swept into a pile inside the storage area of the hotel abutting this alleyway.
The Slayers, the Immortals, and the humans (one alien among them) whispered to each other as they stacked, stashed, and otherwise removed any detritus of the apocalypse (small 'a') they had just survived. By mutual consensus they quietly went about their chores until a Fallen Goddess woke up from a Troll Hammer induced shock to her system.
“Where?” groggily came from behind Jack, “Where are the demons human?”
Standing calmly, yet carefully balanced on his left leg (that knee wasn't hurting so much), his P-90 clipped to his vest Jack slowly turned, a slight scowl shading his features. Placing his left hand on the butt of his weapon while keeping his right on the trigger the very tired Air Force officer looked the Blue Woman up and down as she slowly rose from her supine position. Deciding to keep it simple he told her, “They got a one-way trip to OZ.”
Illyria frowned. Imperiously striding forward she started to demand, “That is enough human. You will swear -”
She was cut off by a voice from above. Its cultured tones soothing and caused her to halt in complete surprise. Head twisting from side-to-side she searched out the source of the specter that must surely be haunting her.
“It couldn't be.” the thought echoed dully in her aching head. Illyria heard him call out to her from the top of the building opposite the hotel. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up and saw... him.
“I am here Illyria.” Wesley informed her.
“Wesley?” she asked in Fred's voice, so small and vulnerable as their eyes locked.
Stepping off the roof he levitated to the floor of the alley. Landing on the asphalt he told her, “It's me Illyria. A little changed, but still me.”
Shuffling closer she incredulously examined him. Her sight, seeing so much more than a humans, showed her the core of the man standing his ground. Illyria could see the increase in power that Wesley was still adjusting to, but the man himself, he was still Wesley. The part of her that was Fred cried silently inside in relief. Illyria stopped before him aloof and proud determined not to show the weakness of emotion trying to stare him down.
But the man, curse him, just stood there, loose and easy. More confidant in himself then before his 'death', a little broader in the chest and thicker in the muscles. Magic streamed from him in barely repressed energy. His lips were a little crooked, a little bit of a smirk inside a happy smile. She was confused for a second at the happiness in that stupid human expression. She almost gasped in surprise when she suddenly realized he WAS happy. Happy to see HER!
Stepping inside his personal space didn't cause him to flinch like it did before. No, he actually leaned into her as well. Then she met his eyes, still a deep, caring brown. What she saw made her want to run away screaming into the night. And, yet... yet it also caused her to lean closer and offer her lips up in surrender to this man.
The kiss was like nothing she expected. It was wet, it was electric. It filled her up and emptied her out at the same time. He grabbed her, actually crushing her to him deepening the kiss further. Illyria didn’t think she could be any more surprised by Wesley, but his strength now matched her own. She wouldn't be able to fight her way out of his arms if she wanted to, not that she did. Want to, that is.
She, Queen Goddess of the Ilerium, surrendered to a humans love.
From his vantage point on the roof the Vampire known as Angel examined the remains of the battle. There were swords and weapons of Dark Power. He considered how to claim a few for himself before all the goody-two-shoe Mages and Witches destroyed the items. His wandering gaze alighted on Wesley and Illyria's re-union and he almost hurled at the sight.
He smelled Buffy, feeling her step next to him, almost inside his personal space. Her scent was intoxicating, threatening to release a primal urge within. For a second, only a second he had an almost overpowering desire to suck her dry while taking her...
Angel shook his head, controlling himself, violently pushing the monster within back down. Smiling down at the blond Slayer next to him he observed, “Well, looks like we did it again.”
Buffy looked up at him, puzzlement creasing her brow.
“We went into a fight with a crazy plan and against overwhelming odds.” Angel said, straightening and lowering his foot from the roof façade. Grinning a bit goofy he added, “And we won by the hair of our teeth. Again.”
Spike wandered up inserting, “And no casualties this time.”
Spike stopped in shock, what he had registering upon his conscious mind. He spun around staring intently at everyone gathered and then down to the group below. Spike noticed Gunn helping some Slayers lift some over-sized and obviously over-heavy objects. He saw the priest blushing and looking away from the two love-birds who didn't look like they were coming up for air anytime soon.
“Spike?” Buffy asked.
“Somethings wrong Slayah.” Spike told her his concern evident by the thin line of his lips, “No-ones died. No serious injuries. No-one maimed. No-one getting accidentally sucked into the vortex or dragged there by the demons.”
The others slowly gathered, alarm growing as he listed things that didn't happen. Instances that, in any other of their fights, they would've had to deal with at least one, if not all, of them.
“We're just that good?” Angel postulated.
He winced and shrugged his shoulders when those gathered glared at him.
“Well, we won't figure it out up here.” Buffy stated. Peering over the edge she started hunting for a way down adding, “We've got a hell've a lotta clean-up to do.” Giving up her search she turned on the Duke boys blurting out, “Did ya have'ta disintegrate the fire-escape?”
Bo blurted back at her, “Seemed like a good idea at the time!” irrepressible grin in place. Glancing to his cousin he asked, “Right cuz?”
Luke wisely put his hands up, shrugged his shoulder up and stated, “Hey, I'm staying out of this one.”
Willow just sighed, her back to the group, facing in the opposite direction. She asked, “Guys? Guys! What are we gonna do with a Dragon Corpse?”
Everyone looked up, having forgotten about the dragon. They really got a good look at the sheer mass of the corpse. Buffy almost dropped her Hammer upon fully realizing the size of the monster she slew.
“Mr. Gunn?” came a voice from behind him. Gunn spun slowly from picking up the chest piece of armor from one of the larger demons. He reveled in his new found strength as he effortlessly lifted the item.
“Yes?” he answered the little girl, not really looking at her.
“Can I have your autograph?” she pleaded, her dark, fifteen year old face lit up in expectation.
At first he was going to snap at her for such a ridiculous question. Then he looked into his sister's eyes. A wave of nausea flowed over him causing him to almost lose his grip on the armor. Squeezing his eyes shut he looked like a dog shaking water off its fur. Slowly putting the armor down he took a few calming breaths.
"She looks like Alonna." he observed trying to quiet the storm in his head and heart. When it was safe to open his eyes again his demeanor changed. Relaxing into big brother mode he responded, “Sure. Whadd'ya want me to write?”
The young Slayer squealed an honest-to-God teeny-bopper meeting-her-idol squeal. Gunn felt his eyes getting a little misty as she answered in a rush, “Oh! Would-you-say-'to-my-favorite-Slayer'-and-sign-it-with-just-Gunn? PleaseOhPlease??”
Smiling a real smile for the first time in a long time Gunn did as he was bade. The other Slayers working around him, all of them at least a year or so older, smirked and winked amongst themselves.
“O’Neill.” he rumbled stepping around the... Warlock? Wizard? kissing the fallen goddess , “We are victorious once again. And I believe we might have some new Warriors to assist us in our fight against the Goa'uld.”
“Dammit!” Teal'c turned at the uttered oath. Methos stomped up to the former First Prime of Apothos, his piercing gaze locked with Teal'c's. Methos snarled and ground his teeth then stopped. He looked at Jack then back to Teal'c, then back to Jack, then Teal'c. Nodding in understanding he postulated, “You met your team-mates on another planet and helped them to escape those parasites didn't you?”
Teal'c nodded. Once.
Snorting in frustration Methos turned on Jack yelling, “It took me decades to organize a rebellion and kick those filthy parasites off my planet! Now you've opened Pandora's box and gotten their attention? As if we don't have enough problems with the supernatural, you have to invite aliens into the mix? What? Are you stupid? Bloody Americans....” he muttered, pacing away from Jack and walking in a circle cursing under his breath the whole time.
Jack weathered the storm calmly, waiting until Methos ground to a halt. Now Jack is a slow to anger kinda guy and when someone gets mad at him, well, he counts it as a job well done. Also, he knew if one listens REAL carefully a lot of information could be revealed. So, just to goad the Immortal a little bit more into revealing anything else (and not because it was fun winding people up) he pointed at Daniel, snitching on his best-friend by confessing, “HE DID IT!”
Daniel just shook his head in mock shame. Hiding his smile he said, “Oh. Real mature Jack.”
Suddenly, Methos was in Daniels face, his sword against the archeologist's carotid artery, hissing menacingly he questioned, “What were you thinking when you figured out what the symbols meant Dr. Jackson?”
Jack and Sam's P-90's were up and pointing at the Immortal. Teal'c tensed. The other Immortals grew a little uneasy at Methos actions.
“Um.” Daniel licked his suddenly dry lips, “The Air Force is gonna pay me after all?”
Methos' expression grew thunderous until Duncan stage whispered off to the side, “You over-did your job Old Man. They didn't know it was a Chappa'ai. They didn't know what was out there.”
Methos heard the over-grown Boy Scout. He didn't want to, but he heard him. He growled, spun away from the Archaeologist, letting out a 'Raaargh!” he sheathed his sword as he stomped angrily into the hotel.
Amanda smirked, “He is such a Drama Queen.”
“I heard that!”
“Meant ya to!”
Paige whispered to Leo, “Think we can orb all of them downstairs?”
Leo looked over and actually raised his right hand counting all the people on the roof. Then he counted on his fingers dragging it out. Paige smacked him on his arm barking, “Leo!”
Chuckling he answered, “Yeah. As long as you and I do it together we can get them all.”
“It's about time.” Phoebe groused, “This night air isn't doing my hair any good.”
“Okay everyone.” Leo called out gesturing the others to gather around him and Paige. He advised them, “Grab hands. Paige and I will Orb all of us down to street level.”
“Ummm...” Angel hemmed. Nervously he said, “I'll get down meself, thanks anyway lad.”
Paige shrugged, “Suit yourself.”
Buffy glanced at him in slight surprise mouthing, 'You okay?' Angel nodded, 'Yes.' in reply.
A few seconds later, a flash of lights, and Angel was alone on the roof. He looked at the dragon and ambled over to it. He touch some of the, still hot, blood and smirked. Normally dragon blood was fatal to Vampires but with the Gem of Amarra in his stomach... an evil grin spread across his face.
“Willow, Wesley.” Dawn whispered to them halting their progress into the hotel, Illyria tucked under Wesley's arm. Speaking into a cell phone she pulled them outside with a nod of her head.
“Angela... Yes I know what 'bloody time' it is, please listen.” the person on the other end of the phone grew quiet listening to Dawn's summary of the Alley Battle. All three heard the woman’s shriek of “A Dragon?!” emitted from the phone as Dawn ripped it away from her ear. Calmly Dawn responded with, “Yes, a dragon. A dead dragon. A dragon-corpse.”
The person on the other end of the phone sounded as if she was hyper-ventilating. Yep, they heard a bag wrinkle and unwrinkle as the woman breathed into to it.
“Angela!” Dawn snapped, her patience at an end, “Get a-hold of yourself! We need the Coven to help us teleport it over there so it can properly be disposed of!”
“Oh. Too right.” Angela agreed. A deep even breath and stated, “I'll summon the Coven, expect a call within the hour. Ta!”
Dawn lightly smiled. To her Angela had always seemed a bit of a drama-queen, but when the chips were down she could be counted upon.
“Tea and Crumpets anyone?” Wesley asked.
Willow considered for a second or two then nodded and stated, “I could eat.”
“Giles! You old demagogue!” Jack yelled out happily, “How did you get into this mess? Did M send you?”
“Ah... no.” Giles responded slightly flustered, “I haven't been with MI-6 in quite some time. Left about a decade or so ago.”
“Bet M was pissed.”
Buffy looked up at her watcher in confusion asking, “Giles? You were James Bond?”
Giles, somewhat abashed elucidated, “No Buffy. I was a 007 agent for a short time, but it was never quite like those Ian Fleming novels or those horrid over-acted movies.”
“Tell us how ya really feel Giles.” Jack quipped eliciting a giggle from Buffy causing Spike to nervously shy away from her. Jack stopped, pretending to hold a martini glass and stated with a bad British accent, “A Vodka Martini, shaken, not stirred please.”
Buffy flat out laughed having to hold onto her sides imagining her tweed wearing, stuffy Watcher trying to be the uber-cool James Bond.
Giles looked at Buffy, then looked at his old comrade Jack his expression promising retribution commented, “Oh, very droll you pompous American.”
Jack smiled back saying, “Limey git.”
Angel pulled himself away from the dragon's remains gasping for air he didn't need. His veins burned as the power of the dragon swept through him, its magic interacting with the Gem of Amarra with unforeseen results. Eyes colored red drowning out his natural brown Angel judged the distance to the roof of his hotel. He jumped, a malicious chuckle escaping him, and landed lightly on top the Hyperion.
Striding towards the door he grinned letting barely restrained evil laughter bubble forth from his deep in his chest.